The Evens

ALONE

Alone

Gabriel Gurdián

“Who ever said that life would be easy? And did you think that society would be good to you? Oh and now you believe you’re special because you won a spelling bee in fourth grade? No man, you are wrong. This whole idea you have about life and death is completely fucked.” William got out of the house, slamming the door. I think our whole conversation had disturbed him in a special way. My words had apparently hit a soft spot. William, or Will, as I liked to call him, was usually an emotional pile of flesh. He was the sad product of a life full of despair and desolation. And because of that, I considered him my friend.

Now I’m not saying that because my relationship with Will was based solely on his random emotional outbursts. No. I usually got a kick in hanging out with deranged individuals. The crowd that interested me was the freaks and the ones that never seemed to fit anywhere. These are the human beings that have something to say, they have the best stories and usually are the ones that make me feel alive.

I reached for the TV control. I turned the machine on. None of the things on television made much sense to me these days. I was jaded; there wasn’t a single drop of innocence in me. All of that bullshit had been lost years ago. Santa Claus didn’t fall down the chimney. I loved to watch the infomercials. People telling other people that they need this product they’re selling. It will help to solve your simple problems, make them easier. Bullshit.

“We are living in a sneaker nation” – I said to myself. “WE ARE LIVING IN A SNEAKER NATION” - I said to myself again. Yes, I had to convince myself about this beautiful fact. It’s hard to explain, it really is. I was sick of all the “have a nice day” bullshit. People don’t care if I have a nice day. They just don’t. Mechanically, I nod back and say “thank you.”

I turned the television off and put a record on. Goodspeed you! Black Emperor. “Dead Flag Blues” came on. Apparently, the whole thing made sense to me.

The car is on fire… and there’s no driver at the wheel…

And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides…

And a Dark Wind Blows.

A government is corrupt… And we’re all so many drones with the radio on and the curtains drawn.

We’re trapped in the belly of this horrible machine… and the machine is bleeding to death.

The sun has fallen down… and the billboards are all leering...

And the flags are all dead. At the top of their poles.

It went like this… The buildings toppled in on themselves… mothers clutching babies… picked through the rubble… and pulled out their hair.

The sky line was beautiful on fire… all twisted metal stretching upwards…

Everything washed in a thin orange haze.

I said, “Kiss me your beautiful, either troy the last days”

You grab my hand and we fell into it… like a daydream… or a fever.

The phone rang. I got up from the couch slowly. Let the motherfucker ring for at least three times. “Hello, is Bill there?” –A female voice said on the line.

“Hey lady, you’ve got the wrong number” – I said impatiently.

“Oh… I’m sorry… I didn’t know who to call… I’m desperate… Would you be so kind in giving me a few minutes of your time?” – She said… in a rather sad tone.

Now this is the part when I can just say no. I don’t usually enjoy talking to strangers… especially over the phone. The whole thing is just too impersonal, too indirect. And as you probably know already, I’m a direct person… I need to get to the point quick. There is always a minimal percentage of bullshit on my part.

This stranger seemed like a nice person and plus, she was a girl. Girls always need someone to tell their sorrows to, it’s something that they need to do, to cry their hearts out. I’m not going to lie; her voice seemed interesting over the phone. I simply told her, “What’s happening?”

After sighing, she began,

“My mom died the other day. I feel it’s my fault because I ended up neglecting her calls. Naturally, I didn’t show up for her funeral… I didn’t answer the door when my dad stopped by my place two weeks ago. My boyfriend, Tim, has developed a habit of hitting me in the mouth every time I tell him to look for a job. Everyday gets longer and my life seems to be the same. The years pass by and slowly the wrinkles are setting in.”

There was a short pause. She continued,

“I leave the television on at night when I go to bed… At first I though it would lull me to sleep. I was correct. I’m so afraid to be left alone with my own thoughts and this piece of machinery is sometimes the only friend I have… I’m dying slowly and I’m pretty sure I’m not enjoying the whole journey.”

After hearing this I had to sit down. It was too much for me. This girl was telling me her life story. She needed help… or so I thought.

I closed my eyes and suddenly I found myself in a desert, at night. I was in the middle of nowhere. Out of thin air, a living room appeared. One family couch, two love seats and a leather recliner. The place was furnished with a big Persian rug.

“Amazing” – I said to myself, completely perplexed at the site. The stars at this place seemed alive. This desert were I found myself was miles away from any human congregation. Because of this, the sky seemed to be thriving with life.

I focused my eyes on the seats and Will appeared out of thin air. He was sitting on one of the love seats. My great aunt Gina was sitting on the leather recliner. I sat down on the couch. No one said a word. After a while, I lit a cigarette and yawned. After I let out my first cloud of smoke, Aunt Gina said calmly, “Another lost, televised soul of middle class America.”

I opened my eyes and found myself in my living room. On the other side of the receiver I heard a voice that said a simple “Hello, are you still there?” It took me a couple of second to realize that I was still talking to her. I urged her to continue her story. This is just what I needed to hear right now, someone else’s problems. This would at least help me forget mine for a while.

“I’m sick of eating all these pain-killers everyday. I have become addicted to them. Everything turns to shit when I don’t have those chemicals in my body. When I’m on pills everything works out great, I don’t feel a thing and it helps me to concentrate on my job. I’m a postal clerk. It’s a pretty good job but basically you have to be a machine to be able to keep up with it. There’s too much shit going around, so many letters that need to be sent to different places. Packages filled with thoughts, feelings and emotions from so many individuals. Basically, the Post Office is a place with too much stuff happening around. They need robots there, not people… and that’s what I’ve become.”

“Interesting” – I said back at her. Here I was, talking to another victim of society. This woman was straight up another freak of nature. “What’s your name?” – I asked, while yawning.

“I’m Rita” – She replied in a fast manner, like a gazelle, or maybe a deer. “What’s yours?”

“Benedict” – I lied. Well come on, this could be anyone talking to me right now… I wasn’t going to give her my real name. After all, I was a man who believed in discreetness.

Rita continued talking for about another half hour. This conversation was taking too much of my own, precious time. I told her I had to hang up because I had to do some stuff for work (another lie again… I’m unemployed and have been for a while). Before we hung up I told her that she could call me back anytime, that she shouldn’t hesitate in giving me a call when she needed someone to talk to.

As I hung up, I heard that someone came in from the backdoor. Will grunted as a bear when he came in the living room. “I told you to come in through the front” – I said to him.

“Hey man, I think I have the right to come in through the back. I’m your favorite neighbor and you know it” – Will said, flashing his white set of teeth at me.

“You’re the only neighbor I know” – I said.

He shook his head slowly. Will had left earlier to get some alcohol. I told him to get some vodka. Instead, he got some Jaggermeister.

I rolled my eyes. “Will… You know that I don’t drink that” – I said slowly to him.

“I’m aware of that. You are drinking this tonight though” - He said back, imitating my slow talking.

Of course I gave in. Alcohol is like candy to me, irresistible. It’s just that some candies, even though delicious, make you go crazy.

As Will prepared the drinks with some Red bull, I proceeded in telling him the story about Rita. He wasn’t listening… he never was. Will nodded and sometimes said “wow” with an uninterested tone. He handed me my drink. I sighed. Jaggermeister had something in it that didn’t mix well with my body. It set off a violent spot in me.

“What’s this bullshit?” – Will said as he approached my record player. He turned off the beautiful Godspeed You! Black Emperor, and put some Black Flag on. If you’ve heard these two bands you may well know that this is a major shift in music. Post-Rock to eighties Hardcore Punk. The atmosphere in the room didn’t change, as both bands are still depressing. Depressing but beautiful…

I yawned and stretched while Will sat down on the couch. The drink tasted sweet. “Perfectly ironic for the moment.” – I thought.

“Hey man, do you have some Doritos?” – He asked.

I nodded… my concentration was being used in reading the mail. “A letter from my mom” – I said back to Will. “Bring me a lighter, will ya?”

He came back from the kitchen with a huge Doritos bag on his left hand and the lighter on the other one.

I smiled as I set the letter on fire. I put it on the ashtray as the fire ate the whole thing. “I’m not even going to bother in reading that.”

Will looked at me… he was worried. He offered me some Doritos. I wasn’t hungry at all. The caffeine in the red bull was wiring me up.

This whole drink was always a BAD idea. Too much sugar, too much caffeine, too much alcohol; it was a complete time bomb. I’m a risk taker though… I chugged the fucker down.

Suddenly, the whole room got cold. The living room became really bright and the music was really loud. I started breathing hard and getting anxious. No, it wasn’t the alcohol, I sometimes get panic attacks.

“I’ve had enough of this Black Flag shit!” – I yelled at Will, who was still mulching down the Doritos.

He gave me the “I don’t give a shit” glance and continued eating.

“Fuck you, man… FUCK YOU” – I yelled at him. His drink was empty. He slowly grabbed my drink, and without breaking eye contact, got up. He turned towards the kitchen and disappeared into it. The phone rang while I was in the living room. Will took the liberty to answer the phone. All the way from the kitchen, he yelled at me, “Hey, a woman called Rita is looking for a dude called Benedict, she’s sure she has the right phone number” – Will said.

“You imbecile! Tell her I’ll be right there!” – I yelled at him. I got up and rushed to the kitchen.

“Calm down man…” – Will said as he gave me the phone. He gave me my drink and left the kitchen. I could hear that he turned on the television in the living room.

“Yes?” – I said.

“Ben? Benedict, is that you?” – Rita said, with a certain air of despair in her voice.

“Ummm… yes…” – I said while I savored my new drink.

“My boyfriend is hitting me… he’s been drinking heavily for a few hours now. He got really angry when the gin ran out” – Rita said, her voice breaking over the phone a little bit.

“What’s your address there?” – I said to her.

“2550 North Henry Road. Hurry up; I’m locked in my car, in the garage.” – She said to me.

“We’ll be right there” - Now these words I said slowly. I wanted to assure her this fact as I had a plan.

I hung up, took a drink, grabbed the fifth and told Will that we needed to go.

“Sure…” – Will stood up, putting on his coat. He looked at the floor for a few second and then looked up,

“Where are we going man?”

Ignoring his question, I said,

“Bring the rope.”

Before heading out I put on the television on an empty channel. After getting the volume as loud as it went, we headed out. Gorgeous static embraced my whole house. You tell me, who would break into a house like that? Only a crazy individual would. In that case, I would allow this deranged person to take all my possessions. Crazy person usually put stuff to good use.

I got in the car and waited for Will to get in. He was outside on my front yard, staring blankly into space. I rolled down the window and said to him, “Snap out of it boy.”

I proceeded to light a ‘cig. The lighter’s flame was bright… it was dangerous and sexy at the same time. Its hotness completely intoxicated me.

“Can I bum one off of you?”- Will broke the silence from the back seat. I didn’t hear the car door open. This frightened me and made me jump in my seat. I hated Will when he surprised me like that.

On the way Will didn’t ask any questions. The inside of the car was quiet. It wasn’t an awkward silence. It was alright to have silence sometimes. Silence didn’t make me feel lonely. I always felt this way about silence… it made me feel safe. My interaction with Will didn’t change this feeling. I never felt that my ideas ever made much sense to him. If they did, he didn’t seem to care.

“Animals”- I said as we crossed the mall.

“Consumerism makes me want to puke” – Will said.

“Vanilla Ice-Cream” – I said loudly.

“Billy Boy eats at McDonalds and buys at Wal-Mart. He loves to keep it real. Mommy never told him about the chinks in the sweatshops that suffer day and night to keep him happy & plump…” –Will said with the cigarette in his mouth.

As we got to Henry road I began to remember a few social events I attended here. These parties would be at one of those big apartment complexes. The vast majority of people here would usually be really loud and obnoxious. The music would be noisy, the apartment would be completely crowded and the people would be too drunk. The only conversations that they would engage in, if they did, would be about four things:

1. Sports
2. Television
3. Commercial Music
4. Sexually oriented topics

As I didn’t like any competitive sports, watched television or listened to radio, socialization proved to be quite difficult. I would usually end up drinking and smiling like an idiot. This got old and boring quite fast.

“That place sucks. How can anyone sane live there?” – Will said, staring coldly at the dead, concrete jungle.

“I’m not sure man…” I said back to him. I really wasn’t.

We found 2550 in about five minutes. The place looked nice outside. Freshly mowed lawn and some pink flamingos stuck on the front yard. “Sweet” – I thought. Rita’s house seemed quite welcoming, as a matter of fact; her house reminded me of the Candy Witch’s house from the kid story, Hansel and Grettel. Small and pretty.

Will didn’t understand why we parked on front of the house. “Another sign that he’s never paying attention” – I thought. He was wondering what we were going to do with a fifth of Jaggermeister and some rope. I told him that he should keep his mouth shut and that maybe he should wait in the car.

I got out of the vehicle with the fifth in hand. Will stared at me from the inside of the car. His eyes resembled those of a calf, innocent and beautiful. I ignored this and proceeded to make my way to the front door. After taking a deep breath I knocked three times.

At first, no one came to the door. I thought about Rita while I waited there, she’s probably asleep in her car at this moment. Or maybe not… maybe she’s really scared in there… waiting for me to save the day. At last someone came to the door.

I was received by a medium sized man, with a badly shaven beard. The buttoned shirt he was wearing was dirty. “So this is Tim” – I thought.

“Who the fuck are you?” – He said to me.

“I’m friends of Rita, she invited me over for a drink” – I showed Tim the bottle I was holding. He smiled and said,

“Nice to meet you man, I’m Tim.”

“I know…” – I said as I stepped in. I turned around to see if Will was still in the car waiting for me. He wasn’t there. “The fucker probably got bored and ditched me” – I thought.

Rita’s house was lovely. It was small but that didn’t matter to me. We sat down on the living room and began drinking. Tim was nice as hell. I was getting along with him quite well. That is until I asked her about his girlfriend. His face changed completely.

“That whore… she’s been saying she wants to leave me” – Tim said while shaking his head. I decided to change the subject… the alcohol was already gone and I needed some more. That bitch Rita could wait. I was really having fun talking to this woman beater. Convinced that ingesting more alcohol would result in other interesting conversations, I asked him if he wanted to come with me to the liquor store. He told me that he was running low on cash and that he wouldn’t be able to pay for anything though.

“That’s fine” – I told him. “Tonight’s on me.”

On the way to the liquor store Tim asked me the usual questions. How did I know her girlfriend and what did I do for a living. I lied both times. I told him that I met Rita at yoga club back in college, we ran into each other at the mall the other day. I supposedly worked at the dog pound, in charge of euthanizing the dogs and cats. “You make me wanna puke” – He must’ve thought.

“Here’s fifteen bucks, surprise me.” – I handed Tim over the money while parking the car. “I’m going to stay here and smoke a ‘cig.” Tim, who was majoring in alcoholism, liked the idea of buying the booze by himself. He nodded back at me with a certain smile and got out of the car.

“Ain’t he a cutie” – I jumped on my seat, completely frightened by Will’s voice. I turned back and found him sitting on the back seat. “How the hell did you get here!?” – I yelled back at him. This was a little bit weird for me because I was a hundred percent sure he had left earlier.

“I was taking a nap in this here seat; it’s been like what… three hours since we left your place?” – He said.

“I’m not really sure; I don’t keep a watch.” My reply was honest at least. Time has been moving slowly for me for years now… An hour always felt like an eternity and a whole breath seemed to last forever. I knew Will was hiding something from me, I could feel it in my gut. He’s the typical individual that loves to keep secrets.

Before he could ask for a cigarette, as he usually did, I offered him one. He said he didn’t feel like smoking a whole cigarette at once, it was too much nicotine for him to handle at the moment. He wanted to share the cigarette I was smoking. Of course I said no! For starters, sharing cigarettes isn’t my thing; there are diseases that can spread that way. And plus, Will functions in strange ways. The day I offer him a cigarette is the day he wants to share one. Crazy bastard.

Tim came back with a bottle of whisky. The phrase “Bad Choice” popped in my head. I opened the bottle and took a sip of it. To me, whisky tastes how wood smells. It’s only in rare occasions that drinking wood sounds like a good idea. Tonight wasn’t. He took a sip of the bottle once I handed it back to him. Tim didn’t notice Will, who was being silent at the backseat.

No one in the car was expecting to see Rita’s house in the state we found it when we came back. People were gathering on the road to see the whole spectacle. The house was on fire, it was the event of Henry Road for the night. The majority of the people watching Tim’s possessions being burned to the ground were college students. Drunken college students. Firefighters were running all over the place with their hoses and their asbestos suits. Policemen were trying to control the crowd, who in their drunken state, wanted to go into to the house and steal whatever they could find.

I noticed that the garage door was completely torn apart. The car was missing.

Tim started panicking; he couldn’t comprehend the whole situation. Two fat policemen tackled him down when he rushed through the crowd and tried to get into his burning house. On the ground and defeated, he started crying. He explained to the cops that his girlfriend Rita was somewhere in the house, that they needed to look for her.

That’s when I got in my car and left the scene. Will told me that the rope was missing. “You must’ve been asleep when someone grabbed it” - I said. No damage was done though; I didn’t have an emotional attachment for this piece of string.

Rita was gone. That’s what I read in the papers next day. 911 receives a call from the burning house, the woman on the other side of the phone tells operator that her house is on fire... after that, she hangs up. Firefighters found the garage door to be torn apart, no Rita or car found on the site.

After a few days of sleeping and trying to forget that life moved on outside the walls I called home, the phone rang. “Hey what’s up, it’s me, Rita. I’m in Reno right now, I love it over here. Gambling is good for my self esteem. Tim committed suicide, did you hear about it?”

“No, I’ve only been reading the economy side of the newspaper for the past few days. What happened?”

“Well, I called him and told him that I would be away for a while. That he shouldn’t look for me. I needed my space and some time away from everything. My life wasn’t working out and our relationship sucked. He was drunk as always, at his parent’s house. He told me he loved me and that he needed me. Eventually the sweet talk turned violent. Tim told me I was an evil son of a bitch for burning all our possession down. I told him to fuck off and hung up the phone.” She paused for a second to get a few breaths and then went on,

“My best friend, Carole, gave me a call a few hours later. She asked me if I was sitting down. I lied, of course, at the moment I was playing roulette at a casino. Tim had been found dead in his dad’s tool shed; he hung himself with a rope. Someone had written all over it the same set of four letters, W-I-L-L.”

“Interesting” – I said.

“Yeah… the weird thing is that I don’t feel bad at all. I’m actually kind of glad that he’s gone… I need to go though, the bathtub is full already and Michael, the bellboy, who I found quite attractive, is waiting for me in it.”

I told her that I was happy for her, which was, of course, another lie. In reality I didn’t give a shit. We hung up afterwards. After telling Will what happened I got into bed and fell asleep. Aunt Gina woke me up at the desert, a few hours later. “Champagne and cocktails for everyone” - Will said while he handed Tim a cigar. I smiled because for a mere second I felt complete… alive… full.

Y con la fuerza de un tren, me paso por encima.

Y con la fuerza de un tren, me paso por encima.

Por: G2

Sus ojos nublan la escena por completo. El bar parece desaparecer cuando ella me vuelve a ver directamente. Me mata cuando no puedo establecer contacto con sus ojos por más de diez segundos. Todo se vuelve demasiado difícil de soportar, soy el que pierdo en esta pelea de miradas.

Ella es el tipo de mujer que siempre busca más. Ella es el tipo de ser humano que siempre quiere comprender más. Las situaciones más simples parece comprenderlas. Estuvimos conversando por horas, escondidos, tratando de establecer varios parámetros. No existió conversación normal. Nunca lo fue, siempre todo de lo que hablamos fue súper interesante. Ahí mismo fue cuando sentí que talvez no seria tan malo brincar y salir de las atmósfera… ya que siempre he querido que me trague la tierra.

Nunca creí en muchas cosas, sin embargo, en este momento creo en todo. Estoy convencido que es saludable poder compartir mas tiempo con este ser humano. Es saludable, para los dos, poder relacionarnos de manera intelectual. Posee un vasto conocimiento musical. Me parecieron interesantes varios puntos que planteo. No solo me parecieron factibles, sino que estos me interesaron ya que es una manera diferente de ver las cosas. Sentí, en ese momento, una atracción por ella. Esta atracción, raramente, no suele ser corporal.

Dice la gente que esta muchacha es súper atractiva. Atracción sexual hacia ella existe… pero poca. Me fascina su poder intelectual. Esta noche ella presento una faceta de su personalidad que resulto ser fascinante. No se si es que estoy madurando o simplemente es que me repugna la superficialidad. Quiero dejar de ser hipócrita conmigo mismo, siempre me ha dado cierto asco la superficialidad. Me vuelve loco el intelecto humano y la capacidad del pensamiento.

Quiero ser sumamente ordinario. Dedicarle canciones que dicen un mensaje completamente pretencioso y difícil de entender. Se que ella va a poder entender todo el mensaje que quiero hacer llegar… y si por alguna razón no entiende, podría explicarle mi punto de vista sin ningún problema.

Básicamente, dejándome de jugar de sabelotodo, el mensaje que quiero hacer llegar aquí es que ella es lo mejor. Si pudiera describir con una palabra como ella me hace sentir, esa simplemente seria “bien.” Talvez ocupo una mujer así en mi vida. No estoy seguro, en cosas de mujeres nunca lo estoy. Sin embargo, me intereso lo que ella tuvo para ofrecer. Ideas exquisitas sobre la personalidad humana y música.

Particularmente me intereso su punto de vista acerca de las personalidades de un individuo. Estuvimos conversando con detenimiento sobre como la personalidad de una persona cambia de manera considerable cuando tiene estupefacientes en su cuerpo. De acorde al estupefaciente, la personalidad del individuo suele cambiar notablemente. Esto causo risa en los dos. Muchísima risa.

Espero poder conocerla más. Porque entre todo esta montaña de perdedores ella parece ser la perdedora numero uno. La perfecta reina de todos los desaparecidos de la noche. Ella es la mujer que esta a cargo de la situación. A lo mejor eso es lo que ocupa un hombre salvaje y necio como yo. Autoridad.

PIDGINES -Noticias-

Noticias

Saludos Soldados,

Aqui Gabro Pidgin informando la situacion actual del grupo. Cada miembro de Pidgines ha estado ocupado con diferentes proyectos musicales o intelectuales. Lamentablemente, por cuestiones de tiempo, Tilio Pidgin no va a poder volver a los escenarios este diciembre. El esta conciente que no llegara a tiempo para poder ponerse en forma (ademas no habra tiempo para organizar chivo en esas epocas...).

Despues de haberlo pensado bastante, hemos considerado que es necesario y saludable para el grupo el hecho de seguir componiendo (Tilio Pidgin definitivamente regresara con nosotros en un futuro). J.A. Pidgin y yo hemos estado considerando varias ideas que queremos implementar.

Estuve hablando con Alberto de Señorita Maestra, le pregunte que si podria ayudarnos en diciembre a tocar. Sin pensarlo dos veces me dijo que si. Alberto pasara a ser por un mes Albi Pidgin. Volviendo a las conversaciones de J.A. y yo. Hemos decidido entrar al estudio en diciembre o enero a grabar material. Esto significara que Albi estara grabando con nosotros y ademas prestando vocales.

Fabro Pidgin se encuentra optimista y con ganas de tocar. Hemos estado hablando sobre el futuro del grupo y parecio parecerle bien.

Por otros lados, la cancion, "(A Estebitan) Le Duele La Cabeza" estara saliendo en una compilacion de la disquera californiana Cabana 1. Esta disquera la corren la maravillosa Alma y su jefe, Juan. Estara saliendo por ahi de Enero 2007, ahi mas detalles luego.

Estaremos en contacto,

Gabro Pidgin

1044. Music for the modErN EaR

Completamente Despedazado

Completamente Despedazado

Por: G2

Su piel solo la encontramos en la luna. Sus ojos empiezan adonde se acaba el cuento. Ella ha tomado todo lo que he tenido. Ella lo ha destrozado. Se ha encargado de tomar control de mis sentimientos. El pensamiento racional parece no funcionar en este momento. Su cara me lo ha dicho todo. Sentada en ese sillón, puedo verla claramente. Ahí esta ella, desnudando toda la escena. Analizando todo con detalle, como si fuéramos todos protagonistas de su propia película. Completamente interesante, la bella luna sonríe. La bella luna ríe. Una vez mas me encuentro vivo, en este momento podría estallar.

Quiero pegar un brinco y salir desde la atmósfera. Llevarte conmigo en mi mano, poderte enseñar que todo lo que vivimos, todo lo que sentimos, es sumamente químico, completamente irreal, sin embargo, matemáticamente perfecto. Quisiera volverme adicto a todos estos químicos contigo, quiero sentir las hormonas fluir por mi cuerpo. Una vez más, quiero sentir ese sentimiento caliente y emborrachador. Quiero sentirlo contigo… por favor.

Me das miedo. Muchísimo miedo. A veces me siento completamente pequeño ante tu conocimiento. De todo sabes y de todo entiendes. Me gustaría, de hecho, me encantaría llevarte a tomar café.

Todo estaría perfecto, la brisa en las calles no seria tan intensa y los carros parecerían invisibles. Las mejores conversaciones sucederían, a veces, sin cesar. Todo en una tarde de verano… aunque haya nieve o lluvia en las calles.

Esto es lo único que quiero hacer. Tener una conversación verdadera con otro ser humano. Sobre detalles e ideas sumamente objetivas. Deseo saber sobre opiniones. Quiero entender diferentes posiciones, añoro aprender.

Ella mueve su cara y sus cejas con extrema gentileza. Su cabellera de oro sin pulir pareciera como si fuera a tomar vida. Su complexión cambia por completo. Ella es una profesional. Sabe más que ello. Entiende más que yo.

Que agonía… me han atrapado una vez más. En sus garras he caído, completamente desarmado, listo para ser demacrado.

Aquí me tienes. Dispuesto a sufrir. Te he hablados dos veces y desde ya te quiero hacer saber. Es necesario que sepas el porque estoy así y porque siento todo esto. Mujer, me has vuelto loco.

El Claro Resplandor De La Luna Sin Sombra

#1

Tremendo desasosiego. Sus respiros me mantienen despierto. El cielo, estrellado, sonríe eternamente. El mundo entero desaparece y me encuentro completamente solo, frágil, absoluto. Sus respiros son suspiros y su cara un acertijo...

#2

Come forward, my love. Sleep in my arms and dream the great dreams! Give me your trust, without fear, without lust. Sleep my son... close your eyes, for eternity, for posterity... live for the ones that will never be born!

Timothy. Argentina. For Real.

Timothy. Argentina. For Real.

BY: Gabriel Gurdian

“Fuck!” – That’s all that came out of John Merrryland’s mouth. He had nearly hit a deer. Merryland hit the brakes as fast as he could. The car started to swerve violently on the pavement, threatening to go off the road.

“Cars do that sometimes...” – I said silently (it has to be noted that earlier that evening, I drank some beers, maybe too many beers, probably didn’t even notice the whole incident) while staring at the cold and dead landscape. The car stopped suddenly.

Jaime, that’s my name. Yeah, I’m your simple type of dude. I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in business from the University of Texas. I work as an assistant to the manager in a local Burger King. Yeah, I wasn’t exactly living my whole dream of becoming something of myself. Nope, not me… I was kind of disappointed. But what could I do? That job did pay the bills, the food and the party. So I guess it was cool.

I was in the back seat, Phil Mann was riding shotgun. It had been decided some weeks ago that we would go on a road trip. This of course wouldn’t be your ordinary road trip. It had come to our attention earlier that year that our life as we knew it would come to an end when our reserves of oil ran out. Of course, such an event as that seemed really far away and didn’t even preoccupy us at all. As far as we knew it, we were burning gas… and we had money for it. The whole idea was to go as farther away from home as possible. Maybe even go down to Peru.

“South America man, you need to check out the chicks down there”. A friend of mine told me back in college. That was the plan. Go down to Argentina and get a job. I mean, I could work somewhere with my college degree and all. The other two boys would be just fine; we would look after each other’s back, as always. We didn’t even bother to tell our parents, it had been decided it would be easier to leave town if we just left without saying goodbye. We just left a note. It said, basically, that we were leaving for a road trip across the land; we’d be back in time for Christmas.

23. That’s my age. It’s the same age as my two other companions. Actually, Merrryland’s 25, he had always been the old one in the lot. You see, there was something with John that just wasn’t right. He never grew up. The dude loved life. He also had an understanding about stuff many other people even didn’t know about. He thought he knew something big was going to happen to him.

Of course, Merryland would say yes to the idea of a road trip. He needed to see the world! Breathe the air! And of course, do stuff that wouldn’t be allowed by the common social standards. He was an artist, full with energy; it seemed as if he would sometimes transfer his hyperactive behavior to his other friends.

John went to a community college. Don’t ask me which one. I can’t remember the exact name. Maybe Mann knows, you guys should ask him.

Well, as for Phil… what can I say about him? He’s just Phil Mann. He was the intellectual of the three of us. I’m not saying he was an Albert Einstein or anything. No, Mann was a Wikipedia freak. He would sit around in his room on his free time with his computer, reading Wikipedia and drinking black coffee. Phil tagged along for the ride when he decided he wanted to travel for a while. He did have some money he saved up from his job; at Best Buy (Phil enjoyed a good job in the returns & repair place). He was good hearted, people actually liked him because of that, I guess he was kind or something. I just thought he was cool. Before I forget as well, Phil also hated his job. He didn’t like the whole idea of seeing broken TV’s or unwanted games or DVD’s. It seems boring as hell to me at least.

After a few days on the road, we stopped having our opinionated conversations and those long (and of course, boring) debates about existentialism and our point in life. This road trip was, of course, our journey into the unknown. It was known that such a journey could take more than a week. We stopped talking to each other for hours. Occasionally, Merryland would yell out two or three words. He didn’t like the whole idea of a car being quiet. We stopped to eat at a small restaurant in the middle of nowhere in Oklahoma.

I put out like five grand for cash. Phil did the same. Merryland saved up his money for a while. He came up with one grand. We had eleven thousand bucks for gas, food, motels, alcohol and cigarettes. It wasn’t a good idea to have drugs on the car. The cops in other countries could be a hassle. Merryland would buy them on the way (grass or maybe even some cough syrup). Whatever he could get his hands on. We didn’t want a part of that though. He did that stuff by himself. Neither Phil nor I did drugs. We watched that movie, Easy Rider earlier that year, and one of the dudes in that movie, said that marijuana leaded to “harder stuff”. We believed him for real.

“Good times” – Phil said while he lit a ‘cig. Two days of driving had passed already. The border to Mexico was coming in quick. Merryland smoked the rest of the weed he had. No pipes, as these could be smelled by the dogs. It was the last of his weed and he decided that it would be a good time to roll a joint.

“Pretty nice meal you’ve got there” –I said looking back at him (I’d been driving for the past couple of miles. It felt as if it was more than that. My ass cheeks were feeling a little bit sore already.)

“Of course, it’s a pretty good breakfast man” – Said John.

Phil, who was driving shotgun, stayed quiet. He was using a calculator, trying to see how much money we could spend on booze and food. Mann was wearing an old t-shirt. One of those Hanes ones… they’re pretty comfortable by the way. It was hot outside (we decided that it might be a good idea to shut down the a/c and save some gas that way) and a t-shirt like that one is a damn good thing to be wearing.

The police at the border didn’t ask many questions. They stopped earlier two or three trucks hiding some Mexicans. The dudes were lined up, they were being questioned about the individuals that had arranged the whole smuggling process. They sent the dogs but they didn’t smell anything. We stopped earlier at a gas station to take a piss and buy some cigarettes. John sprayed on some Lysol he found at the gas shop.

Once we got into Mexico it was different. All the signs started to be in Spanish and in English. Our Spanish lessons back in high school weren’t working at all. Some of the signs were completely in Spanish. This was kind of cool because it reminded about that one time me and my parents went to Puerto Rico. I was like 9 or maybe ten.

My dad rented out a cabin in this hotel at the beach where his friends had stayed two summers earlier. Mom packed a lot of swimsuits and had decided that it would be a good idea to bring our dog, Spam. He was a small beagle that we had. We had a good time in the sand, Spam even got bit on the nose by a crab. Even though I was the only son, we had good times, the three of us. Of course, Spam was really important to us all; he was like my younger brother, only hairier.

Phil turned the radio on. At first it was a little bit difficult to understand. The dude on the radio was talking really fast in Spanish, nice. He changed the radio station and some music came on, some reggaeton, dumb and boring as hell (I mentioned earlier that I had a big relationship with this chick called Mariana right? She was from Honduras, a real bombshell by the way. She would listen to Daddy Yankee and all that shit... let’s not get into her that much; she isn’t important to the story or me anymore. So that’s that). Mann changed the radio station once more and then some really good jazz came on. The song was ending. When the DJ came on he said,

-“Welcome to the soft and cool sounds of Jazz 105.5, I’m your man Babe Laurie. We’re gonna go next with John Coltrane, Blue Train, Enjoy”.

“Yeah dude, that dude Babe is kind of cool” –Merryland said from the backseat as the soft sounds of Coltrane started to come through the speakers.

We stopped to eat at midday at a restaurant we found on the side of the road. The place was called “El Mariachi Sin Botas” (The mariachi without boots) or something like that. This restaurant was beat down; it was kind of like a shack, with no floor, just the ground. There were three tables and not enough chairs to sit everyone.

Now “El Mariachi” wasn’t exactly packed. There were like two or three truck drivers that needed to stop and get something to eat. Phil engaged in conversation with one of them. Turns out he spoke a little bit of English. That was good news as you might be guessing.

Merryland was having a hard time eating his tortillas. The hot red peppers that were wrapped in the tortillas were making him sweat. A little bit too spicy for him. The waitress, who, of course, didn’t speak English, had a difficult time trying to take our orders. Luckily, the truck driver helped us; he seemed like a cool guy, laid back and shit.

-“Andale, pues tráeles tortillas, con chile. Para que prueben lo que es México” - The driver said to the waitress. (Bring them some tortillas with hot peppers. They need to try what Mexico’s all about)

Back on the road, three hours later, Phil, who was riding shotgun, puked. Maybe it was the water he drank at that place. We ordered some Sprites (I though that was kind of weird, how on Earth could that place afford to sell soft drinks?). Phil’s puke was a dark green mixed with a shocking yellow. Maize mixed with Jalapeño and Habanero. Amazing.

“Yum” – Merryland said without taking his eyes of the road.

“Bummer, we should’ve doggy bagged it” – Phil replied as he drank some of the bottled water we had bought at the gas station. He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief and looked back at me.

“What’s up man?” – I said.

“I need a ‘cig man. You got any?” -Mann said darting his eyes across the back seat.

“Yeah, I got a pack of Pall Mall.” – I said back to him.

“Shit man… I don’t smoke those.” – Phil sighed.

The hours passed. I dozed off. Merryland had the music on. It could’ve been either The Beatles or Herman’s Hermit’s. My window was open and all the wind was blowing in my face. I couldn’t hear a damn thing. My head started working on this really weird dream though. I was naked. In class. This was a little bit weird for me as I couldn’t see the teacher’s face or even the person that was seated next to me. The bell rang.

I woke up to find Phil on the wheel. When did they change? Sleeping can do that to you… you know how it is sometimes; it’s as if you’re lying in a bed and they slowly start putting cotton sheets on top of you. They keep doing that for hours, until you’re under lots of layers of sheets. That’s how sleeping feels like sometimes. Anyways, Merryland was sitting next to me. He had a ‘cig in his mouth and some really weird sunglasses on (this turned out to be kind of weird because it was already nighttime). John was rolling another joint.

“Where the fuck did you get that? Phil, for how long have I been asleep?” – I said.

“Turns out that truck driver at that restaurant needed to get rid of some weed, as he was going to cross the border later on.” – Phil replied, still looking at the road.

I dozed off again and woke up again at like 2 am. We stopped to take a piss and put some more gas on. Phil bought his pack of Camels and we sat outside the gas station for a while. We where still where in the middle of nowhere. Pathetic.

It was a really good idea to stretch your legs. After all those hours in that car, it did feel kind of weird when you got out of it. We did this while we stared at the road. Three or four trucks passed by, leaving the whole place filled with dust. We coughed up a little bit of the dust and sat down on the side of the car. A rabbit started to cross the road. It was taking his time, smelling the dirt and staring at the sky. Apparently, the poor thing got entranced watching the stars, It didn’t notice a huge truck that was going to crush him any second now. That rabbit didn’t even scream; it must’ve died pretty fast. Three tires crushed his little body, breaking every bone and squishing every organ.

“Shit man…” – Merryland said.

Phil checked out the road real quick. When he noticed he was out of danger he ran up to inspect the dead specimen up close.

“Dude, he looks like mashed potatoes” – He said.

“You grab me some boy.” – Merryland replied.

Phil kicked the carcass and laughed for a little bit. He picked it up after he was done. Mann took the animal to the back of the car as John opened the trunk. He put it inside.

“Dude, what the fuck?” – I said, starting to freak out.

“Hey man, that rabbit died In front of us man. That’s good luck. We’ll take him with us.” – John said back to me.

“Yeah dude, that dude is going to Argentina” – Phil said, trying to clean off the blood in his pants.

I sighed. These friends of mine, they’re crazy. They understand each other. It’s as if they could talk to each other without saying a word.

We got back in the car. Phil got in the back, Merryland shotgun.

I turned back and said,

-“Hey man, I don’t want my stuff at the back getting all bloody and shit”

Phil started to move his head sideways. “Nah dude, it’s cool, I put Timothy in a plastic bag.” Phil said. He started to stretch; apparently he was tired and was going to take a nap.

“Who the fuck’s Timothy?” – I asked, starting to laugh.

“The rabbit, man! The rabbit…” – Merryland said.

John got out his CD case. He put on some Terry Riley, the Eddy De Fanti album as he lit that joint. As I drove on, the car got filled with the sounds of minimalism. An hour or two passed by. It was as if the landscape could blend with the music. The place was dark and infinite. I smiled. Everything was just that… simply beautiful.

John was staring outside the whole time. Trying to figure out what was out there. He focused his eyes on the farthest object he could see. Sadly, all he could see was darkness. Emptiness moved across his window. Rapidly, John stuck out half his body out of the car and yelled out,

“It’s the energy man, can’t you guys feel it!? Dude, Jaime, you do feel it right?”

Phil woke up to witness the whole act. He wasn’t pleased with the whole situation. I was trying to pull John into the car with my right hand while I steered the car with my left hand. The car nearly got out of the road.

“You guys should chill a little bit. Can’t you see I’m sleeping here?” - Phil said as he tried to go back to sleep (apparently he didn’t care much about the fact that we nearly died just a few seconds ago).

“I’m gonna punch you in the mouth if you don’t sit still for a while John” – I yelled back at him. That dude really got on my nerves sometimes. You see, I wasn’t a huge fan of driving. Driving bikes, now that’s something old Jaime could do. My bike was cool. One of those old bikes the art students drive. No gears and heavy. Old school… That was my type of bike.

“But Jaime, come on man” - Said John with an apparent note of faked sadness.

He started insisting. Merryland was one of those dudes who tried to check out how much he could abuse a person. He liked to see when they cracked. I must admit it though, he was good at it. John had been doing this all his life, ever since he cut a girl’s ponytail off with some scissors back in pre-school.

Driving could be a hassle sometimes, especially when Merryland started with his never-ending crap. Now as you might have read earlier, I did tell him that I would punch him in the mouth if he didn’t shut up. John started touching my hair.

“Dude, Jaime, I mean, I’m sorry.” – John said while laughing furtively. Merryland would be able to laugh without moving much of his mouth or even show much emotion. I had some ability in figuring out if he was laughing or not. Merryland was my pal; you guys know that, it was just that sometimes he got on my nerves. He was a pretty cool guy most of the time. Tonight he was being a major douche bag.

After 5 minutes of messing with me and trying to act as if he was sorry, Phil had enough. He couldn’t even sleep now. This pissed him off as he hadn’t had any sleep in a while. I had my eyes focused on the road so I wouldn’t be able to know what exactly happened next. Phil moved rapidly and smacked him in the back of the head. Merrryland’s head hit the windshield. Actually, just his nose made contact with the glass.

At the same moment this was happening, Phil yelled out, “I’m trying to sleep here you bastard!” Merrryland’s nose smashed against the windshield. Some blood popped out. I think he got the idea of being quiet because he stood still for a while. The blood didn’t stop coming out though… it got all over his dirty white t-shirt.

“You broke my nose man.” – John said quietly. I dashed my eyes as fast as I could at it. Yeah, the whole thing looked kind of bad. “Hey man, that’s somewhat cool dude” – I said. Phil was quiet, really quiet. We were in the middle of nowhere and he knew it, he had just broken his best friend’s nose. Awesome.

I pulled the car over. The road was empty. Not even one car that night. Not even the trucks. It was just us three dudes, the ground, and the sky… and of course, Timothy, who was still in the trunk. That whole place was dry. Even the air, it was as if it burned our lungs. There was some vodka at the backseat. I took it out, had a sip. After taking my handkerchief out, I soaked it in the vodka. It was a good fifth of Stolichnaya by the way.

“Dude, put that on, it’ll stop the blood flow” – I handed John my handkerchief. Who cares, I was gonna get rid of that goddamn piece of cloth anyways. Alana gave it to me. It was all I had left of her. What a bitch. This chick, Alana, I met her at Burger King. She was OK I guess. Alana liked some good music and stuff. We were together about a week before I left town. She’s still in college… a junior. That girl would always be at my place. The bitch would steal my money. Dolce & Gabbana. She would spend my money on that shit. It’s totally cool if the girl would’ve asked me for some money, I would’ve gone shopping with her and stuff. It’s just that she was stealing from me. She would take money out from the stash I had, in my sock drawer. That happened constantly, for like two months. I found her one day with her hand deep in my white socks, that’s when I kicked her out.

“Shit! It burns!” – Yelled Merryland as he put the vodka up to his nose.

We got in the car. I kept on driving until hours later we came across a local clinic. John got some painkillers and had his nose bandaged. He came out of the place looking like crazy.

“They’ve got a dude over there. He got in a fight with another dude. They used their machetes! Dude he was all cut up!” - He said.

We drove out of the place slowly. John was driving. We didn’t talk a lot. It was like that for some days. The road was crowded sometimes, other times it wasn’t. Phil read at the backseat sometimes. Merryland tried to paint the landscape one day. I tried to read some commie pamphlets in Spanish that a dude gave me at a gas station (the whole thing was difficult to understand so I built a paper airplane out of it).

The cities were alright I guess. We were just cruising by. I mean, a city is a city. They’re always crowded. Cars are everywhere; people are trying to get places. Some places looked beat down; other places were even kind of scary to get into. We stayed on the main road as much as we could; sometimes we got into a random road, just to get the whole idea of the place. All this traveling was wearing us down, too much sightseeing; it was a little bit too much sometimes. It was beautiful, too beautiful, actually…

After being in Mexico for like a month, the boys and I were sick of drinking tequila. We met these chicks in a bar in Oaxaca that rocked our world. It was on a Friday night. The beer at the place was semi-cold. The three of us started drinking heavily and pretty soon decided that it was a good idea to send some drinks (double screwdrivers) to the three ladies that were at the other side of the bar. They started laughing at us.

It turns out that the girls were called Juana, Isabel, and Anita. They spoke some English. Phil started talking about music with Juana, who was already done with the screwdriver. Anita promptly started questioning John about his broken nose (Merryland started to show off his battle wound) and making amazing remarks about it. Isabel started talking to me about her cat. Your boy Jaime here quickly noted that she had an interesting body. This turned out to be even more interesting than Gogo, her cat. Isabel had ironed her hair, put some nice lipstick on and had the most amazing brown eyes I had seen in a while. That could’ve been the alcohol at the moment but I wasn’t entirely sure.

We stayed at their place for the weekend. These girls were heavy drinkers. It was as if they couldn’t have enough or something. I puked several times and Juana too. Isabel didn’t seem to care I was throwing up because she puked like once or twice. I didn’t care. As long as she washed her mouth I would still lay a kiss on her. The boys had a rough time getting out of their place. John had his wound taken care of now. Phil liked Isabel’s cat and had established a good relationship with Juana’s bed. Isabel slept on the couch with me. Her bed was filled with stuff. Apparently she had been sleeping in the couch for 4 months now.

I had to get them out of there. Four weeks had passed already and we were still in the same country. Our cash supply wasn’t low or anything, it’s just that we needed to move on. I’m sure there would be more girls and booze at the road. There always is.

We got to Guatemala and had some trouble trying to understand the border officials. One dude did talk English. John gave him a ‘cig and shook his hand, he had his weird sunglasses on again.

“New country, man” – I said to the guys, who were at the front.

“Yeah dude, new country” – They said back with a huge smile on their face.

The whole place smelled different. Even the landscape looked new. The whole climate changed. That was a little bit weird. People even talked different over here, with a different accent. We went to some cool Mayan ruins. Phil took some interesting pictures over there.

“For posterity” – He said as the camera clicked away.

I was hanging out at a local souvenir store, staring at the handmade stone knifes, masks, and pots when this old, small, Indian woman came to my side. She was holding something in her hand. She held out her hand and gave me this weird handmade skull. I thought it was cool, smiled and said thanks. The woman, who was sporting a handmade dress turned back and went away. Later in the car I told the boys about the whole incident and showed them the skull. They thought it was cool too. A little bit weird though.

Guatemala City was full of people; the place had a lot of monuments that we didn’t read. We picked this kid who was hitchhiking, 14 year old dude that needed to go to a punk rock show at the other side of the city. He didn’t have any money to take the bus. We ended up going to the show, two cool bands were playing. I don’t remember their names or even know what they were singing about. They were really angry and were raising their fists. The crowd was doing that. Merryland ran off to see the dudes in the band as close as he could (later in the car he told us the singer spit in a kid’s face and that another dude broke his collarbone while stage diving). Phil ordered some beers for me and the kid. He was drinking some whisky on the rocks this evening. John was driving tonight. I was going to ride shotgun.

After the show, we said goodbye to the kid, who was shitfaced. He gave us his mailing address. Phil would send him a postcard from Argentina. Maybe even some money (he was going to get a tattoo on his right arm that said, “Jesus Freak”. Merryland told him it would be a great idea for a tattoo).

The drive to the border was quiet. I had some music on, The Yardbirds. Guatemala had been a small country. The whole thing was done in like 4 days. We stayed in a random motel we found on the road. Phil said his bed smelled like piss. Personally, I thought the place wasn’t that bad at all, there wasn’t any hot water to take showers with or even enough toilet paper. You have to make the best out of every situation I guess.

We took early that morning, heading towards El Salvador. The road wasn’t packed with cars, everything went smooth. Everyone at the border spoke English in a decent manner, no major problems were encountered. Earlier that day, Phil made sure Merryland didn’t have any weed on him. He made John smoke everything he had (which was a small quantity he had acquired from the kid).

Phil jumped out of his seat when he saw the Santa Ana volcano. Yeah, that volcano is kind of like a big deal in this country, it’s the tallest place in El Salvador. Merryland had Phil’s camera out, he was having a photo session with the volcano.

“Yeah, show me fierceness” – Merryland said to the volcano. “Beautiful, that’s it! Yes! That’s perfect!” – He rambled on.

It was getting dark after a while. The whole day was spent inside the rainforest. I was exhausted. We had been walking for hours in these trails that they built for the tourists. John insisted on getting off the trail, according to him, we weren’t tourists, we were explorers. He even stated that we as human beings had the right to get off the trail. His whole argument apparently made sense to me and Phil because we started following him.

As we were getting farther and farther away from safety we heard something. It could’ve been an animal or maybe a person. I don’t even think I wanted to find out. John yelled out and started running back. Phil did the same thing so I decided to act in the same way. That’s how our adventure and discovery and all that crap ended.

We decided to spend the night in Sonsonate. After all, the three of us were really tired, no one wanted to drive. I picked out a hotel from the phone book which said that they had hot water and even a hot, complimentary breakfast. I couldn’t complain about that. The boys didn’t say a word either.

The lady at the front desk directed us to the closest bar. She warned us about the locals and how they didn’t like them “gringos” messing up with the girls. This didn’t mean much to us as we were pretty sure that God was on our side. We put on our best shirts, combed back our hair and headed out towards bar “La Raza” (The Race). Merryland put on his dancing shoes. He was pretty sure there would be good music to dance to and good chicks to dance with.

La Raza was a decent place at most. There was no music to dance to (John was a little bit disappointed), just karaoke. This turned to be kind of funny actually. Drunken people are always funny, especially if they’re singing a Michael Jackson song and they speak really bad English. I was drinking some rum, mixed with a little bit of grape juice; it didn’t taste bad at all. John had already left the bar; he was trying to bum a cigarette from this woman with large breasts and which seemed at least ten years older than him. He had already taken two shots of tequila and was being loud as hell. Phil was drinking whisky on the rocks and being classy as always. His combed hair gave him this suave look.

“Hey man, you’re pretty cool” – I said to him.

“What?” – Phil said as he watched a girl that was staring back at him. “I’ll be back in a while” – He said back at me.

So your boy Jaime was left by himself at the bar. This was cool with me as I needed to think about stuff for a while (How do I get a job once I get there?). I downed the drink and ordered another one. A few minutes went by and that drink was done too. The whole feeling was amazing, getting drunk. You start feeling dazed and great. After a while, if you continue drinking, everything gets ruined. This is usually when I become pretty much useless.

“Hi…” – I heard this high pitched voice behind me. I slowly turned around with my eyes closed. Tonight wasn’t a girl’s night for me… no. Tonight I was getting drunk, I was going to pass out and puke in the pool. That was the plan. I slowly opened my eyes. My eyes focused on her compact and beautiful figure. “Wow…” –that was the only word that popped up in my head. There she was, the perfect girl. It was as if my whole brain turned into vanilla ice-cream. No words came out of my mouth when I opened it.

“I’m Lily” – She laughed quietly as she stared back at me with her emerald green eyes.

“Hi, I’m Jaime, people usually call me Jaime, but you can call me… hmmm… Jaime” – I said. She started laughing again. There was no doubt I was being a complete idiot. Here I was, standing aside this chick that could be posing for Maxim anytime and I wasn’t even inviting her on a drink. I motioned for her to sit down next to me.

As she sat down, Lily told me she had met John earlier outside while smoking a cig’. John told her about our road trip. -“He said we could tag along, me and my buddy, Denise.” -She said. Apparently, Merryland found Denise more attractive because she sent me Lily over.

She started drinking something I had never heard of before. It was sweet and mildly alcoholic. I stayed with beer though. The road trip until now had introduced me to a considerable amount of beer brands. I was becoming somewhat of a beer connoisseur.

Some hours went by. The conversation never stopped. The whole discussion just kept getting bigger and bigger. Ideas that branched out of the main topic developed into new conversations. I wasn’t even feeling drunk. The chick kept me so engaged in conversation that I didn’t even notice Phil getting into a fight. That is until Denise started screaming because Merryland started fighting too.

Apparently the chick that was staring at Phil wasn’t even a woman at all. This girl turned out to have a small friend between her thighs. Lucinda started ordering drinks and Phil started drinking for free. I was back at the bar, busy with myself. Lily wasn’t even there with me yet. Lucinda sweetened up Phil, she (or should I say he, perhaps?) convinced him to go outside and smoke a cigarette together. I guess Phil wasn’t expecting to meet up with a transsexual this evening because he ended up puking on Lucinda’s face when he grabbed something under that skirt.

It turns out that Mann puked on a local celebrity. Everyone at the bar knew who Lucinda was. They weren’t very happy about it either. All of this next part is kind of hazy. The alcohol had kicked in already. I was far away from being sober. There were two medium sized men yelling in Spanish at Phil. Phil, who didn’t understand anything, started laughing. This of course was too much for the two men. One of the men let out a punch and missed as Mann ducked out of the way. He was expecting this. Phil responded with a low kick, aimed directly at the testicles. This is when Merryland stepped up to the fight. He was dominating the other man, who was spitting out blood. Some drunken men didn’t like the idea about John getting in the fight. They had to have their fair share of punching too. This is when Denise yelled out.

I turned my head to see what was happening. A fat man had grabbed Phil by the neck. He was yelling out something in Spanish. That dude, Lucinda, was nowhere to be found, apparently he fled back home, covered in Phil’s creation. I watched silently as Mann gathered up all the spit he had in his mouth and motioned it towards the fat man’s face. This wasn’t greeted very kindly because he proceeded to hit him straight in the stomach. Phil lost his balance and fell face down on the floor. His head hit the cement.

I remember coming up from behind and hitting the huge individual with a beer bottle. This of course started a huge fight. At first, everyone else was observing. Exactly as if the whole thing was a boxing match. When my bottle made contact with fat man’s face, all hell broke loose. No one was going to put up with these foreigners. They had insulted their transvestite and most of all; they were taking their women, Denise and Lily.

Merryland got roughed up by this dude that had a huge moustache. He spit up blood like crazy. John wasn’t going to give up though. After a while, the man with the moustache ended on the floor, Merryland had been successful. I had my fair share of punches too, administering and receiving. I was sure they would hurt the next day. My body was completely numb, adrenaline rushed through my veins. Lily hit the bartender. She stole two fifths of rum.

I’m not really sure how we got out of there. Phil was messed up, he was bruised all over. Merryland had been cut with glass in his back. I received a few blows in my stomach and in my chest. No one was injured seriously though.

We ended up laughing about the whole situation back at the hotel with the girls. Lily opened a fifth of the rum she stole from the bar. She took a drink and handed me the bottle. I smiled back at her and took a long drink. The boys and Denise did the same. That is the last I remember from that night. I must’ve passed out in a bed because that’s where I woke up plenty of hours later. Lily was by my side, asleep. The two boys were in the other bed, with Denise. Completely hung-over, I smiled.

The rest of the country was beautiful. Unfortunately, we didn’t stop for most of it. That didn’t bother me anymore as I had Lily, in the car with me. Merryland started making fun of my unusual good mood. “At least I’m the only one having sex with her” – I said back to him. Everyone in the car found that funny. Even Denise laughed; she was apparently enjoying the situation more than the two boys.

Lily was born and raised in San Salvador. Her parents, who were doctors, had the opportunity to send her to a private school. Here she became fluent in English. She decided to go to Sonsonate for the summertime, to visit her childhood friend, Denise. After a long and agitated talk, the girls decided that they needed some action in their lives and that traveling for the rest of the summer would be a good idea. That’s when we came into the picture.

I had a really interesting conversation with Denise as we got closer to the border of Honduras. It turned that the chick was an active member of the hippie community of Sonsonate. Over there, Denise knew some old dudes that went to Woodstock ’69. She told me that they left before Jimmy Hendrix played. Sucks for them I guess. Anyways, we got to the border at like three am. Lily was asleep on my lap, John was driving, Denise was riding shotgun and Phil was at the back with us. The two officers who were working at the border at that time got us out the car. I looked at John, who seemed as if he was going to pass out. There was something wrong here and the officers knew it.

One of the two called someone on the radio. They were going to bring a dog. “Of course John didn’t have anything on him” – I thought. The animal got crazy when his acute sense of smell picked something up. The cops cursed in Spanish. I was frozen at the spot. We all stared at Merryland, who was trying to stay calm.

“¿Que creen que somos? ¿Estupidos?” (“What do they think we are? Stupid?”) – Said the small officer to the other one as he took a small bag of weed from the glove compartment (the douche bag had forgotten to mention us that he had bought some weed from one of the hippies in Sonsonate).

They proceeded to put handcuffs on Denise.

“Now you just wait a second” – Said Merryland to the officer. He took some money out. “Now let’s see here. Here’s a hundred and fifty bucks for you. Here’s another one fifty for you too.” – He smiled. “Let’s forget the whole incident. You guys can keep that bag and everything”

It seemed to work because they took the handcuffs off Denise. We got back in the car and said goodbye to the corrupt officers. “They’ll probably smoke that weed and drink that money” – Lily said to John.

In Honduras we went to a carnival. The event was crazy; people were setting off fireworks in the street. Tons of kids were yelling as if there was no tomorrow. I tell you, kids can be annoying as hell. I love them and all. They’re just not for me. We walked around the place, drinking some beer, sweet Lily was holding my hand. I was laughing like crazy, she was so much fun. As stupid as it might sound like, I was sort of falling for this girl. She kept me entertained for days; the whole thing was like a never-ending party…pretty much like me.

We lost track of Denise and Merryland after an hour. The three of us looked for them for what is seemed like hours. They got lost in this drunken sea of adults, adolescents, and yelling kids. “Why does stuff like this always happen to me?” – Lily said with a certain laugh in her voice. Phil started laughing and moving his head sideways. The whole trip until now had been a complete circus. It was actually strange that John didn’t get lost earlier.

The two of them arrived early next morning to the little beat down hotel we were staying. Merryland was so drunk he couldn’t even stand straight. Denise was somewhat the same. She lost her heels in all that drinking.

After puking in the toilet for a while, Denise passed out on the bed. Merryland went outside and lit a ‘cig. He puked in the trashcan at the end of the hallway, cleaned himself up with the back of his left hand, and continued to smoke his ‘cig. After that, John came inside, he washed his teeth and passed out on the bed besides Denise.

I had trouble starting the car when we left. It just wouldn’t start and I didn’t have a clue what was wrong with the thing. The girls called a mechanic’s number they found in the yellow pages. Lily took care of the whole situation. Apparently the car had some problems with the carburetor. He charged us sixty bucks for everything. This process took some hours. The boys went to the pool with Denise and I stayed helping the mechanic with Lily.

Phil didn’t have a problem turning the car on. “That dude did a pretty good job” – he said to me. The girls insisted that they wanted to go to the capital to see some paintings by Jose Antonio Velasquez. John thought the pieces were breathtaking. I didn’t think he was that good at all. “I’ve seen much better” – I told them.

The border to Nicaragua was crowded. We got there at midday. The place was packed with truck drivers and tourists; we lost most of the day there. Lily insisted on going to the beach after that. She alleged that we needed the salt water; it would be good for our health and our mind. I guess we all needed some salt water. Feeling the sand between my feet sounded like a pretty good idea.

We got to Poneloya beach late in the afternoon. Lily opened the other fifth of rum she had stolen and sat down on the sand. Her emerald green eyes focused on mine as she took a drink. I felt warm inside. She handed me the bottle and then she started running towards the sea. “Damn, that blue bikini does look good on her” – Merryland said. I smiled, took a sip and handed the bottle to Denise, who was noticeably jealous about John’s comment. After she took a sip, Denise got up and walked towards the water. I yawned and took out a ‘cig. There I was, twenty-three, at a tropical beach in Nicaragua, with my two best friends. I never felt so alive. The sky got filled with different shades of orange and yellow. “First row seats, huh guys” – I told the boys. The boys didn’t answer back this time. They couldn’t move their eyes. The whole scene was too much to miss it I guess. I stayed there a minute or two smoking the rest of my ‘cig. The smoke in my lungs felt amazing. Isn’t it sad that something as delicious as smoking can kill you? I put the cancer out in the sand, took off my t-shirt and proceeded to the ocean. The girls were having a sand fight. “Bring that fifth with you!” – I yelled back at John.

The water was really good for swimming, warm as hell. I played with the girls for a while, throwing sand at them. When John and Phil arrived, I took another sip of the bottle and then handed it to Lily. Getting drunk in the ocean, while the water shakes you and stuff is a really good feeling. The whole place got really dark pretty soon; we were all having uninteresting conversations in the water. I didn’t even realize it, the stars had come out, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky… the moon was huge.

Phil, Denise and John got out of the water pretty soon; they’ve had enough of the currents and stuff. It looked as is Phil was going to puke. “Too much rum” – I yelled back at him as he got out of the ocean. Lily and I were left alone.

“This is the right moment” – I thought. “Let’s do it now…”

“Lily… I really dig you. Don’t you think we’re made for each other? I’ve been thinking for a while... I think you’re the girl for me… These past days have been so much fun; I’ve never felt so alive in my whole life.” – I said as she stared back at me. She started making a really weird face.

Looking down at the water she said, “What are you talking about? Don’t say that. You know this is only a sexual thing. I have to get back to El Salvador in a month. You’re a pretty sweet guy… It’s just that we’re headed in really different directions…”

I started feeling really bad inside; someone inside of me grabbed a hammer and crushed my heart. Lily kept on,

“As a matter of fact, Denise and I are leaving tomorrow. We’re taking a bus to Bluefields. Denise has some hippie friends over there; we’re going to stay at their place for a while.”

That took me by surprise. It was as if I had been hit on the side of the head with a baseball bat.

“Oh” – I managed to get out. Completely ignoring her now, I turned around and consumed my whole body underwater. I needed to be alone for a while. Underwater, your boy Jaime started crying. That’s when I let all my suppressed emotions out… Some time passed by because when I came out Lily wasn’t there. It was too much for her to handle I guess.

We dropped the girls off at the bus station the next day. Lily tried talking to me; she wanted to say goodbye or something. She sighed and started crying once I didn’t look back at her. The saddest song ever started playing on the speakers. Screeching Weasel’s “Inside Out”. I grabbed a pen from the dashboard, grabbed a piece of paper and began writing the lyrics,

"Inside Out"

Now everything you're telling me rips me up
I swear I wish I'd make myself shut you up
I've got a list here of things we talked about
The ugliness you see's just me inside out
And what I just don't know
Is what I think about it
I don't know at all

Lily cried even more once she read the page. I started crying too and yelled out,

“GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE”

An atmosphere of depression fell in the car after that. “Such bitches” – Merryland said looking down at his feet. “Yeah dude” – Mann said back at him. I opened my mouth and said, “Let’s get out of this place, this country. I want to forget about Nicaragua, I’ll never come back!”

I drove the whole day with just a pit stop for pissing and another one for gas. John was sleeping in the back and Phil was in the front seat. He put the Second Hand Smoke by Sublime on. Pretty good reggae dub, laid back. “That music makes you forget, that’s what we all need right now” – Phil said to me. We got to Managua pretty soon. Neither Phil nor I wanted to stop, so we didn’t. John woke up after a while, he pointed out a huge lake. Denise had told us that there were sharks in those waters. Freshwater sharks… now that is pretty scary.

“Hey guys, I really appreciate having all this time together” – Phil said. John agreed and so did I. Nicaragua was done soon as well. The three of us were glad the place was over. A whole new country was waiting to be discovered. The cops at the border with Costa Rica didn’t give us any problems. We were told that this place had some really interesting spots to go to.

Costa Rica was tight. We spent a couple of days in Tamarindo, hanging out with the locals. I was drinking heavily those two days so it’s a little bit difficult to remember much of the place. I do remember eating some really good sea food over there though. The whole surfing scene was pretty big as well. Merryland rented a long board at two bucks an hour and did his best on trying to surf. At first he had a really big problem standing up straight (he had to many Imperial beers earlier). After a while he good a little bit better at it. He still sucked though.

Some old ladies at the supermarket told us that we needed to go to Monte Verde. Apparently the whole thing was a beautiful sight, a huge tropical rainforest. We headed out towards the mountains in a drunken stupor. I thought we were going to be stopped by the cops or something. Luckily nothing happened. The back roads are really small and it’s somewhat easy to drive because you drive slower. Some dudes in a truck gave us the finger, that’s about it.

Monte Verde was beautiful. It seemed as if all I could see was trees and wildlife. “So relaxing” – I thought. John was kept busy with all the hiking and Phil was delighted to read about all the plants and animals that you could find there. I went with John on one or two of those hikes. I laid down on a hammock and tried to rest most of the time though.

After two days of exploring the place, we decided to move on. We took off late in the afternoon that day. The park ranger was delighted with Mann’s views on global warming. He invited us over for lunch at his place. I figured this man must’ve been pretty lonely so we decided to join him. He gave us some really good meat and vegetable soup.

The road to San Jose, the capital, was packed. Apparently, all the people from the city decided to go to the beach that weekend. Before we left Monte Verde, John made a reservation at a small time hotel in Barrio Amon. I yawned as I watched the row of cars. Isn’t it funny how human beings move around in those pieces of metal? How they move them from one place to another? “What the fuck man! Did you see that truck filled with cows? The driver is advancing on the right side of the road!” – John said with his eyes wide open. I looked to the side and there was a huge truck that had like ten cows in the back. “Interesting” – I said.

Hours later, as we were on El Monte Del Aguacate (Avocado mount), we saw that truck again. It was parked outside a small restaurant. This reminded me of how hungry I was. Sadly, my hunger had to be ignored. It was already a little bit late and we didn’t want to get lost in a city we’ve never been before. An hour or two passed. We were moving slowly, as everyone else.

And then it happened. I was at the back. Phil Mann was driving shotgun. The truck filled with cows came out of nowhere. He was engaging in the same shit he was doing earlier. It hit us on the side with brute force. Twelve times the strength of a jackhammer. The whole car started spinning. We hit like two or three cars who that in turn hit the truck back. This scared the hell out of the cows, which started moving like crazy. The truck driver lost control of his vehicle, which rolled over, killing three or four cows and severely injuring the others.

After that all I could think of was Phil calling out for Timothy, that bitch that stole my money, and of Lily, who broke my heart. I can’t remember much of what happened at the hospital. It’s all a big blur. Phil Mann and the truck driver were pronounced dead on the spot. Phil had received the complete blow of the car crash. His body was a mess.

“I’m tired man. I’m really fucking tired. I’ve had enough of the road, of the women, of their hair and their smell… their beautiful smell” – John said as he sobbed quietly, paraplegic in his hospital bed. He would end up in Costa Rica for a while.

It was too much for me too. Road traveling does seem to wear me out. After sending Phil’s remains in a body bag through the mail and breaking an arm and a leg, I think your boy Jaime had had enough.

I never said I would abandon the idea of going to Argentina though. I’m not. My airplane is leaving in two days. Enough of the driving and all that bullshit… John will be alright, I left him half of the money that was left. I told him to get a hold of my parents back at home, that he should tell them that their boy Jaime is doing fine and is still alive. I’m taking Timothy with me, that small skull too. I’m not going back home now. Not after all of this happened. I can’t.

***

EPILOGUE

Dear Mom and Dad,

The new place I moved in is ok. It’s located right across a medium sized park called La Fuente. It has a small kitchen and a small living room. I found a small Chihuahua dog outside one night and took him home. Named him Lucas.

John Merryland came to see me the other day. He’s living in Mexico with these three chicks we met on the road. We buried Timothy, that rabbit we found, out on the backyard. John wrote an epigraph on his grave that read,

“Here lies Timothy Rabbit, the finest of rabbits that will ever be. Avenging death, he went out on the greatest adventure of his lifetime…”

He stayed at my place for like two weeks and then decided that it might be a good idea to return to the chicks back in Mexico.

Rita is doing fine by the way; we have decided that she will be moving in with me once she starts working at the bakery across from my place. I’m sorry I couldn’t come home for Christmas or New Year’s. It’s just that I’ve been really busy trying to keep up with all that is happening in my life right now.

Mom, I am happy. I have searched the entire continent in search of happiness and alas, I have found it here, in Buenos Aires. Yes, losing a friend can be hard… but losing yourself can be hell… I just can’t afford that.

Your boy that loves you,

Jaime.